


The Wedding Night

by Megara Bee (Megara_Bee)



Series: Around the World [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Smut, it's too late to proofread so I hope there aren't many mistakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7570285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megara_Bee/pseuds/Megara%20Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The smutty end to my RCIJ fic for Thedarkcheessmaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding Night

In addition to a wedding dress, Mr. Gold had procured an entire new wardrobe for Belle. He had little knowledge of what was in fashion, and even less about the articles that comprised a “complete wardrobe”, but he knew his wife. (Wife. The word gave him a feeling that, while not expressed on his face, filled him with ecstasy.) So, he hired a team of seamstresses.

He had requested that the color palette be based in blue, with gold and white accents. Nothing extravagant, nothing covered in jewels or with more volume than two petticoats (they informed him that four was the current fashion). His Belle would not be attending many balls (though he would accompany her to any event she wished) and so she would not need such heft in her garments; she preferred to read and play chess, engaging him in conversations day and night. She drew words from him like water from a well, with perfect ease and little resistance. He could not have denied her if he tried.

He sat on the edge of the bed, most of his layers removed. He was down to his drawers, dark blue, the bottoms reaching his knees, and the shirt a little too big for him.

“Are you ready?” she asked, poking her head around the dressing partition Gold had brought in to give her privacy.

“As ready as one can be in anticipation of swift death.”

“Death?” she laughed, stepping around the partition. “Only if you refer to _la petite mort_.”

“Oh God,” he breathed, eyes taking her in from head to toe and back again. “Perhaps you are trying to kill me, in order to gain my fortune for yourself.”

“Ah, but my dear Mr. Gold, you told me yourself that the fortune was mine already.” Her hands smoothed down the sides of her pajamas, a pair of gold silk garments that would have removed the breath from any man. Her drawers were short for the current modesty, the ends above her knees. They were trimmed in white lace, including the lace patch over her bottom where they were tied. The top matched, with a square collar of lace that highlighted her neck nicely.

Belle crawled onto the bed, sitting primly beside him, hands folded in her lap. Gold was still staring.

“I’ve, um… done this before, you know.”

Unable to garner speech (or coherent thought) Rostand gave her a quizzical look.

“Marital relations. I was married, so I… I’ve done this before.”

“…Yes?”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Sweetheart, I am by no means a genius intellect, but I had surmised that much.”

Belle sighed, smiling. “You don’t need to be modest. You’re far more intelligent and generous than most men in London, I’d wager.”

“Oh please, I’ve had enough of wagers for a while.” Gold stretched out a hand, his fingers just brushing her arm. Belle shivered. “To be honest with you, this isn’t my first time either.”

“Were you in love?”

Again, the quizzical look. “I hope that you will never stop surprising me. Yes, I was in love. And I proposed. But she said no. We had already been… intimate.”

“You don’t need to tell me anymore,” Belle said, uncurling her legs and pressing herself closer to his side, his fingers moving around to skim across her back. “We haven’t known each other very long and, while I’m eager to learn everything about you, we have time.” She smiled, the expression mirrored on his face. “It will be my greatest pleasure, getting to know you.”

He smirked, bending his head to press a feather-light kiss to her shoulder. “Actually, I fully intend to give you your greatest pleasure tonight, if you’ll let me.”

Belle gasped. One of her hands moved across his shoulder blades; the other he took in his grasp, raising it to kiss the skin on the inside of her wrist.

“Why Mr. Gold, this is quite a different side of you.”

“Are you dissatisfied, Mrs. Gold?”

“Not at all,” she whispered, angling for a proper kiss. She captured his lower lip, grazing her teeth across it. She was rewarded with a shudder. Belle slid her tongue into his mouth, gently exploring. He returned her enthusiasm, hands soon finding the hem of her pajama top and tugging it up.

Belle leaned back out of his grasp.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to push you too fast.”

“No, no,” she said, moving back into the center of the bed. “I just think perhaps we should get more comfortable first.” The grin she flashed him was positively wicked, her fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt.

Gold smiled back, pushing himself back against the pillows. He settled in, hands folded in his lap.

“I think… this first,” Belle said, straddling his thighs. She slipped her hands beneath his shirt, running her fingers up over the sensitive skin of his abdomen. Gold leaned forward, pulling his nightshirt up over his head. He lay back, allowing Belle to explore. She touched him reverently, tracing each line and curve she could find. Gold sucked in a breath when she bent low, her hair tickling his chest. She pressed her palms to his sides, a calming gesture, and with her lips, followed the path her fingers had taken across his stomach. She suckled for a moment on his collarbone, teeth nipping and tongue laving over the skin. His nipples hardened when she brushed her lips across one, fingers circling the other.

Gold had slipped a hand into her hair and it tightened at the nape of her neck. “You’re marvelous.”

“Really? I was trying to torture you.”

He let out a rusty laugh, hands rubbing her upper arms. “Well, you’re succeeding. Is it my turn yet?”

“Yes,” she said, sitting up. “What would you like?”

“This, off.” His fingers curled around the hem of her top, eager, but waiting for her consent. Belle raised her arms, allowing Gold to remove the silk and toss it aside.

He mouthed a prayer, his gaze more imbued with emotion than she had ever seen. His hands moved up her sides, a trail of sensation as he worked his way up to cup her breasts. His fingers splayed across her flesh, moving and contracting as if doing a magic spell, which, to Belle, he was.

He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to the valley between her breasts. He kissed his way to a nipple, capturing it in his mouth. While his tongue teased one, his fingers teased the other.

Belle’s hands tightened on his biceps. He pulled back.

“Is this alright?”

“Yes! Yes,” she said, laughing breathlessly. “I just didn’t know my breasts were so sensitive.”

“Tell me what you like and what you don’t.”

“Well, I like it when you hold me like this,” she said, taking his hand in hers and pressing it to her breast, fingers splayed. She guided him to squeeze gently, a firm but loving caress.

“What about… this?” he asked, raking his nails across her skin. She shuddered and squealed. “Yes? No?”

“I…. I’m not sure. It’s so… It’s not quite pain, but not pleasure either.”

“We’ll explore that another time,” he said, voice huskier than it had been moments ago. He cleared his throat.

“I really liked the feeling of your mouth on my nipple,” Belle said, not-so-subtly pushing her chest closer to him.

He smirked, leaning back against the pillows. Belle followed, bracing herself against the headboard as he took her breasts in his hands, just the way she liked. He pinched her nipples between his spread fingers and earned a gasp and a smile. He returned his lips and tongue to the equation, alternating between teasing touches, sucking, and gentle bites. After a few moments Belle began to rock, her sighs and moans a symphony to the ears of her husband. He worked her up to a dull frenzy, until her hands on his shoulders brought about a ceasefire.

“I think it’s my turn again.”

“And what would my dearest ask of me?”

Belle bit her lip, leaning forward until she could kiss him. But she didn’t. Her lips hovered in front of his, moving back each time he tipped his chin as if to capture them. She relished the variants of brown in his eyes now that she could study them closely, candlelight burning on the bedside table. “Close your eyes,” she whispered, placing delicate kisses on his cheeks, his brown, his chin, his nose.

He complied, grinning as her lips finally alighted on his own for one, sweet smooch before she drew back, moving to lie beside his legs. His long underwear cut off at the knee, allowing her to see, for the first time, the damage of his injured leg. Her poetic mind drew comparisons to the way tree roots were sometimes knotty; still functional, still beautiful as part of the natural world, but not quite the same. She thought of it as an impressionist painting, comprised of bold pieces which created an affecting whole. In reality, his skin had healed impressively well for the trauma it seemed to have suffered. She pressed two fingers to his knee and asked, “May I?”

Ah, emotion again. He snuffed it quickly, but Belle had seen the bob of his Adam’s apple. “Yes. It’s not pretty.”

“Nonsense,” she said, drawing her fingers down, tracing the path of the injury. A rise here, a curve there, divots and indents. “It’s a part of you, and you’re beautiful.” Belle withdrew her fingers, once again replacing them with her lips. She kissed her way across the injury, tears welling in her eyes. “Someday, will you tell me what happened?”

“…Someday.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes. I have good days and bad days, but the journey was very tiring.”

“I’m sorry if I made it worse.”

“No,” he said, smiling softly. “No, it’s already feeling better.”

She crawled back up to lie beside him, pressing kisses to his jaw. “Open your eyes and see what a silly, sentimental beast you’ve married.”

Gold looked around cartoonishly. “Where?” he said, eyes finally lighting on Belle. There was an unmistakable joy as he found her face, bringing up a hand to caress her cheek. “I see only you.”

“Oh? And what do you see?”

“I see… a woman,” he said, turning to lean over her. “A beautiful,” a kiss to her lips, “intelligent,” her neck, “optimistic,” her collarbone, “kind,” her belly-button, “fascinating woman. And if it’s my turn,” he purred, tracing the edge of her pajama bottoms with his middle finger, “then I’d like to show you how earnestly I love you.”

Belle laughed. “Will you always pamper me so when I cry?”

“I promise, until the day I die.”

“Oh, indulgent. Never a trait I imagined in my husband.”

“Sorry, dearest. That’s what happens when you don’t look your gift horse in the mouth. You wind up with indulgent, pampering husbands.”

“Well then,” she said, stretching languidly and draping her arms above her head. “I suppose I should let you at it.”

“Yes?” he asked, hands on her hips, thumbs rubbing circles through the silk.

“Yes.”

“Excellent,” he said, rolling her onto her side. Belle giggled as he undid the ties with vigor and ease, then traced the curvature of her buttocks with his knuckles. He gave one cheek a playful smack and she squealed, rolling onto her back. Gold was kneeling beside her, and she raised a leg to poke him in the chest with her toe.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to make a wanton of me?”

“Oh darling, I have not even begun.” He caught her foot in his hands, running them up to her knee and beyond. His palms were warm against her skin, and the simple touch was enough to send Belle’s blood rushing to her cheeks.

Gold pressed a kiss to the inside of her ankle, drawing her leg up to rest on his shoulder. He lifted the other as well, repeated the kiss, and draped it over the other shoulder. Belle, looking up at him, sucked in a breath. He drew his fingertips from her ankles down to her thighs, a meandering, teasing gesture. Finally, he hooked the hem of her underwear and pulled them off, lifting them up over her legs and dropping them on the floor.

Gold shifted, lying down on his stomach with his head between her thighs. His hands returned to her hips, his thumbs drawing circles once more.

“May I ask you an indelicate question?”

Belle, flushed and breathing heavily, raised her head to look down at him. “Now? I mean, of course.”

“Did your Rajah ever do this with you?”

Belle huffed, dropping her head back. “Once, I think. Maybe twice. He sometimes considered himself a great lover, but overall… he cared only about his pleasure.”

Gold furrowed his brow, pressing his face into her leg.

“…He never kissed me the way you do. He never made me feel…. well, he never made me feel much of anything. With you, Rostand, I feel so much!” She propped herself up on her elbows, grinning. “I feel loved, and desired, and cherished. You _see_ me, as no one has ever seen me.”

Gold looked up, his face unreadable. “I had precisely the same thought.”

“Before or after your indelicate question?”

“I don’t remember,” he said, lifting himself up on his arms and leaning forward to kiss her passionately. His lips captured hers and released, captured and released, over and again until he had no more breath in his lungs. He released her bottom lip as though it were the last thing he wanted to do. “I’m sorry to have ruined the mood.”

“You didn’t,” she said, pressing her forehead to his. “We have a lifetime.”

“Hopefully you won’t last that long,” he said, kissing her once more before returning to his position between her legs.

Belle shuddered as his breath ghosted over her sex. He began to place slow, tender kisses – on the inside of each thigh, on the skin just above her mons, and finally over her vulva itself. He moaned, fueling her desire. His tongue flicked between her folds, and her hand gripped the pillow behind her.

“You taste wonderful,” he growled, his tongue tracing her labia, up and down, nearing but not reaching the place she wanted it most. He probed her entrance, made sensitive by her arousal, and Belle made a noise akin to a whine. With a low chuckle he slowly dragged his tongue upwards, his hands squeezing her thighs, until he reached her clit. Belle gasped as he lapped over it once, twice; her body trembled as his attentions grew more focused.

He seemed to be drawing patterns, finding the places that yielded the greatest result, be it a cry or a shudder, and then finding ways to exploit them most cleverly. It was an incredible sensation to Belle. She was finding it difficult to keep a whole thought in her head for more than a fleeting moment, when his tongue would find just the right spot and wipe everything away but mindless pleasure.

It was when he drew the bundle of nerves into his mouth, suckling as he had at her breasts, that Belle felt the keen snap of control. The pressure that had been mounting inside her suddenly released; a small cry was dragged from her throat as her hips shook, orgasm washing over her. For a moment she just lay there, breathing, but when she looked up, Rostand was grinning up at her like a satisfied cat.

“May I be so bold as to assume you enjoyed that?”

Belle laughed. “Yes, you may.”

He climbed up the bed to lay gingerly beside her.

“I forget. Did that count as your turn or mine?”

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose not,” Belle said, her eyes drawn down to the sight of his erect cock, pushing against his underwear. She bit her lip, looking coyly back to meet Rostand’s gaze. His eyes were dark, his lips still curved into a wicked smile and coated in the proof of her pleasure. “May I?”

He nodded. Belle reached down, stroking him through the fabric. He closed his eyes and breathed sharply. This teasing touch wasn’t going to be enough for either of them. Rolling to her knees, Belle undid the tie and pulled his pants off, careful to avoid his leg.

She lay down once more, face parallel to her unwrapped prize. She took it in with her eyes first -flushed and straining, it was undeniable evidence of his desire. She placed her hand at the base of his cock, slowly curling her fingers around it. He hissed as she began to stroke, slowly, fingers in a loose grip.

“Oh Christ, Belle…”

She leaned closer, extending her tongue. She licked a stripe from his balls to her fingers on the tip of his cock. Profanity escaped Gold’s lips. She tasted a hint of salt – he was hot and wanting and totally hers.

With a squeal of joy she scooted closer, pulling the tip of his cock into her mouth and taking his balls in her hand. She had never enjoyed this task in the past, but with Gold it was different; he gripped the bedspread with one hand, tangling the other in her hair. She bobbed her head, taking him in inch by inch, letting her saliva coat his skin. She released him with a wet pop, looking up at his face as her hand moved up and down his shaft, spreading the wetness.

There was no mask to speak of.

His eyes were closed, lips open, breathing ragged. He looked almost tortured. Her hand stilled.

“Rostand? Is this alright?”

He laughed, a harsh sound, eyes slowly opening. “It’s far better than alright. I’d offer you the moon if it meant you’d keep going.”

“Well, I’d have to decline,” she said, placing a kiss over the tip of his cock. “The moon is very important to the Earth, scientifically speaking. Besides, what else would poets write about?”

“They could find no better subject than your beauty,” he said, a grin on his lips.

Belle swatted his arm playfully.

“Though I think, perhaps, it’s time for our activities to… progress. I’m afraid that if you continue, I’ll be unmade before your very eyes.”

“I was hoping that would be the outcome.”

“That may be, sweetheart, but I’d prefer to make an impression. It is our wedding night.”

The two shared a smile, his more brilliant than she had ever seen it.

“What do you ask of me, dear husband?” Belle said, sitting up. She crawled up the bed until her face was just inches from his, her lips parted.

Gold met her for a kiss, sitting up slowly until Belle was in his lap. His hands tightened on her hips as their kisses grew deeper and more passionate, Belle’s own hands digging into his hair. She could feel his cock pushing against her folds.

“Lay back,” he said, lips dragging against hers as they shared breath.

She rolled off him and to the side. He followed, positioning himself between her spread legs, held up on one hand and stroking her thigh with the other.

Her hands wandered up his sides. “I’m ready.”

“Can I ask you another question?”

“You pick the most inopportune moments, dear husband.”

“Are you in love?”

Belle cocked her head. She squeezed his hips with her knees, urging him closer. He lay over her, elbows on either side holding him up. Belle stroked his cheek, kissing him tenderly and nipping his bottom lip.

“I’m in love with you,” she said, searching his eyes. “And I hope you feel the same.”

“I do.”

“Good,” she said, smiling.

“Alright. I’m ready.” With one hand guiding him, Gold pressed the head of his cock to her entrance. They locked eyes as Gold pushed forward, sliding into her with ease. It took just a few strokes for him to be sheathed.

Belle looked up at him, breathless. She had tangled one hand in his hair and the other gripped his shoulder. Gold moved slowly at first, finding a rhythm. Belle wrapped her legs around his hips, using her feet on his ass to guide him. She rocked with his motions and soon they found a pace and a pattern that suited them.

Gold shut his eyes as their speed picked up. Belle drew his face close, planting messy kisses on whatever she could reach- his lips, his jaw, his throat. He whispered her name, shifting his weight to drag a hand over her shoulder. The sensation only further ignited Belle’s lust, increasing as he cupped her breast.

She began to pull harder with her legs, jarring the rhythm to pull him deeper. As her need increased so did the erraticism of their movements. Gold also seemed to be drawing to his peak; he buried his head in her shoulder, growling and whispering her name.

“Yes,” she cried, voice rough. Her hand tightened against his scalp. “Yes!” The heat in her gut, which had been growing and coiling since she’d slipped into her new silk garments, reached its boiling point. She came with a cry, clutching him to her body. Gold followed closely after, his orgasm sending his hips slamming into her.  

He did his best to hold himself up, but couldn’t quite. Belle didn’t mind, keeping him in her arms as they rolled onto their sides.

“That was marvelous,” she purred, snuggling back against the pillows.

Gold’s cock slipped from her as he rolled onto his back. “Indeed.” He chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

“Can we do it again?”

He laughed. “Perhaps I will make a wanton of you, after all.”

“Perhaps you already have.”

He rolled back towards her, his hand skimming over her hip. “It will take me some time to recover, but if you like, I can bring you to climax several more times before morning.”

Belle grinned. “It’s no fun if I’m the only enjoying it.”

“Well the, perhaps a bit of shut eye?” He yawned, pressing his forehead to hers.

Belle reached down and grabbed a heavy blanket, pulling it over the both of them. She leaned across Gold to blow out the lights. She sighed as her skin dragged over his, still warm and sweat-slicked. His hands roamed over her body as she settled back beside him.

“One thing before you go off to sleep, Mr. Gold?”

“Yes, Mrs. Gold?” he said sleepily.

“Are you happy?”

“My dear,” he said, stroking her cheek and leaning in for a kiss, “I have never been happier.”


End file.
